Doctor Who_ Atom Bomb Blues - Andrew Cartmel [25]
Ace was expecting a light to come on, but the interior of the fridge remained resolutely dark. Cool air wafted from its shadowy silent depths.
Silent. Ace realised that the refrigerator was making no noise at all. ‘Is it on?’ she said.
‘Oh yeah, it’s on all right.’ Ray smiled as he came back with two rather inviting looking bottles of beer. The cool green bottles were frosted with dew. ‘But 43
it’s silent, baby. Peltier effect. I rigged it up myself. Converted a conventional one.’ He slammed the door behind him with his foot and brought the bottles back to the armchairs. ‘We couldn’t have refrigerator compressor noise in the same room as the music, could we baby? And speaking of music. . . ’ He had no sooner sat down beside Ace, both of them with beers in their hands, than he bobbed back up again and moved nervously towards the record player.
‘Ray?’
‘Yes, baby.’
‘Call me Ace.’
‘Ace baby.’
‘Don’t you think we could open the beers before we put on a record?’ The cold bottle of beer in her hand had made Ace realise what a long hot day it had been and how thirsty she was. But the cool inviting glass neck of the bottle was sealed with a metal cap and Ace had already abraded a finger trying to twist it off with her bare hands. Ray darted into the bedroom and came back with a bottle opener. ‘They call it a church key,’ he chuckled as he clumsily but effectively popped the lids on their beer bottles. Ace politely waited for him to take the first sip, but Ray was blundering off doing something with a tobacco tin. He shook it, a look of satisfaction on his face. The tin made a curious rustling sound. For a moment Ace thought he’d been kidding about not having any dope, but then Cosmic Ray snapped it open, revealing a heap of odd-looking dry brown thorns. Ray saw her staring and said, ‘Needles, baby.’
‘What kind of needles?’
‘Cactus. For the record player baby.’ He went over to the machine and lifted its tone arm, replacing the needle in the same painstaking fashion he had used at the Oppenheimers’ the previous night.
‘Does it have to be cactus needles?’
‘Metal needles destroy the record, man. Only cactus needles are safe. Here I am, out here in the middle of the desert and can I get cactus needles? You’ve got no idea how hard these things are to find.’
‘You’ve got hundreds of them.’
‘I could run out at any time, baby, any time.’ Cosmic Ray finished replacing the needle, reverently discarding the old one into a plant pot, as though it was a brave soldier who had served honourably, then bent his considerable bulk over a box of records. ‘Now, hep cat, what can I play for you?’
There was a loud hammering at the door. Ray sighed and straightened up, rolling his eyes in exasperation. ‘Oh man, what a drag. Who’s knocking now?
Excuse me.’ He left Ace drinking beer in the sitting room and disappeared for a moment. She heard the knocking cease and the door open, followed by a swift conversation in low, muttering voices. Ace found herself straining to make out 44
what was being said, but from where she was sitting it was impossible. She needed to be at the living room door, adjacent to the corridor that led between bathroom and bedroom, through to the front door. Ace rose from her chair and took a step towards the doorway. At that moment the front door closed.
Ace hastily sat down again as Ray came back into the room holding a large square envelope. He was staring at the envelope, lost in thought.
When he saw Ace, he made a ludicrous attempt to conceal the envelope, then became aware how ludicrous it was and simply went and set it down in one of the boxes of records. Ace suddenly realised why the size and shape of the envelope looked familiar. ‘What’s the new record?’
Ray almost jumped out of his skin. ‘What do you mean, man?’ Ace smiled.
‘Oh, that,’ said Ray. ‘Sure. It was just some record I ordered. I’ve been waiting for it to arrive.’
‘Why don’t you play it for us?’
‘Aw man, I need to clean